I explained to the interpreter that he need be under no anxiety about the headstrong senoras. I myself would be responsible for them, and would, if necessary, answer for their safety with my head. He departed, doubtful and ill content. He was probably satisfied that I was capable of looking after Lalage, but he dreaded the effect of her example on the rest of his flock. They too might escape.
“This,” said Lalage, leading me up to the other girl, who wore a pink dress, “is Hilda. You’ve heard of Hilda.”
Hilda’s name was printed on my memory. She is one of the three members of the committee of the A.T.R.S. I shook hands with her and asked for Selby-Harrison.
“You haven’t surely,” I said, “come without Selby-Harrison, who won the junior ex.? The committee ought to hold together.”
“We intended to bring him,” said Lalage, “but there were difficulties. The Archdeacon heard about it——”
“That Archdeacon again!” I said.
“And told father that it wouldn’t do at all. Did you ever hear such nonsense? I shouldn’t have minded that, but Hilda’s mother struck too. It ended in our having to bring poor old Pussy with us as chaperon.”
“Pussy?”
“Yes, The original Cat, Miss Battersby. You can’t have forgotten her, surely? It happened that she was getting her holidays just as we had arranged to start, so we took her instead of Selby-Harrison, which satisfied the Archdeacon and Hilda’s mother.”
“I am so glad to hear you call her ‘Pussy’ now,” I said. “I always hoped you would.”